


Somedays

by Czzerny



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9530567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Czzerny/pseuds/Czzerny
Summary: Andrew was just thinking.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so... I did this. This is the first thing I post here and just came out like that. I'm not an English speaker so this probably has its mistakes and I don't even notice them so this won't be something pretty good but wanted to share, don't know why.  
> This is shit so please, don't judge me!  
> Hope you like it, guys!

It was a deep feeling, something wasn’t quite right and it didn’t bother him at all. Always the same, he thought.  

Andrew was standing on the edge of the roof, looking at the ghosts of buildings in the distance, in the night. It made him feel better, like if the old structures could resemble his own existence.

 

Somedays he felt nothing, somedays he felt everything and somedays he just could bear the memories and new emotions he was dealing with. Sometimes being with the foxes was tiring, sometimes being without them was a painful shot in the heart, sometimes he didn’t understand what was he doing there.

He had Neil and made a big effort not to show it. He had Nicky, Bee, Renee… but it wasn’t enough or maybe it was too much. He couldn’t avoid that thought, that little thought that was always climbing on the sides of his head, that deep and distant voice telling him he didn’t deserve all of this. All of them.

Depression, loneliness, pain… those weren’t surprising things, not new. Belonging was, in fact, scary and challenging. Did he even want it? Did he even want all of this? _All of them?_

 

The cigarette in his hand burnt mildly until it faded in ashes in the air. It was cold.

 

Andrew liked Winter, liked cold, like freezing to death in a roof. He liked a lot of things he didn’t realized were there; like the shadows of the university at midnight, the taste of nicotine in his palate, the numb feeling in his frozen fingers, the thought of Neil burning in the back of his head every time he thought about jumping, about leaving, about fading like the ashes he had smoked minutes before.

All of that was somehow amusing, somehow different, somehow… _alive_. And couldn’t decide if he liked it, if he was willing to give everything just to be put on the edge again, just to lose everything again. He wasn’t ready but couldn’t wait to be. He wanted to feel everything and nothing at all. He didn’t understand himself or the things boiling in his guts. He needed it and didn’t. He was a mystery on his own.

 

People sometimes get sad when they sit in the middle of the night just to think. Usually, Andrew would discard every stupid feeling about to burst in his chest and just enjoy his little moment alone without Exy or murders or fucking traumas. He sometimes shared that moment with Josten, sometimes preferred to be left alone. Most of the times he preferred avoid existence and sneak out while everyone was still sleeping.

Palmetto felt much more different those hours when no one was differing his attention.

 

He lit another cigarette and watched it burn in his hand, just like some junkie he knew did all the fucking time. He fixed his gaze on the tiny stick between his static fingers and stared for a long time until sun started to fade some of those sinuous silhouettes. Watch it burn reminded Josten of his past. Watch it burn reminded Andrew of his present.

The ashes were easily pushed by the wind and when he wanted to come back from a resting place inside his head –The only he had, the one with “Josten” written in big bold letters– someone was watching him from behind.  He didn’t bother putting out a knife, he could recognize that presence in a crowded room.

 

“Andrew?”, Neil asked. The blond swallow an ironic laugh. The striker thought he was about to jump.

As he didn’t answer, Neil took another step forward. Andrew didn’t mind, he was too exhausted to care about anything.

“Are you…”, his voice cut off as he realized the stupid nature of his question, or maybe Andrew’s gaze was enough to shut him for once. The older moved aside to go back into the ground and tried to walk as natural as possible –his legs were as numb as his fingers– to where Neil was standing.

The goalkeeper looked at him in silence, trying to figure out how much annoyance could take over his own body. He sometimes liked those blue eyes, sometimes felt disgusted by them. Sometimes they were the only thing he needed.

“Yes or no?”, Minyard asked, standing still in front of the taller man.

A delicate “yes” broke the air between them and Andrew’s mouth was against Neil’s. There was a fight, brushing lips in a desirous moment of need and relaxation. A moment where Andrew was allowed to feel things and not be reminded of how much it would cost him in the future.

 

There were somedays when he was just another creature in that place, another human filling space. He sometimes shared that moment with Josten, sometimes preferred to be left alone.

There were somedays when he could feel, could be alive.

**He always shared that moment with Josten.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously not the best work here but I hope you guys like it! Comment anything you want to share, I'll be glad to receive opinions whether you liked this or not.


End file.
